EO Challenge Don't Touch What Isn't Yours
by LaedieDuske
Summary: E/O Challenge - WoW: Square. No spoilers, no slash, just a tidbit to make me happy. Dean's in trouble for doing the right thing. Again. And Sam's pissed. Chapter 5 added now. CONTAINS THE F WORD!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: E/O Challenge - Don't Touch What Isn't Yours**

**Author: Laedie Duske**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a bizarre kink.**

**Word Count: 100 exactly**

**Featured Word: Square - no spoilers. Dean's in trouble for doing the right thing. Again. (A/N: Apologies - I started this in past tense, but then slipped into my standard "present tense" form for chapter two where I am more comfortable writing and then had to decide which to go with. I decided to stick with present, and I've altered this accordingly.)  
**

v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v

He sees the left that takes him in the eye, dropping him. There is nothing he can do about it. From his hands and knees on the floor, he never sees the kick that takes him square in the stomach, flipping him onto his side. He hadn't realized the mook who'd manhandled the waitress has friends with him.

Wouldn't've mattered.

She'll bruise by morning.

So will Dean.

He is hauled roughly to his feet, a large, unwashed man gripping each arm. A meaty fist slams into his aching stomach, driving the air out of his lungs.

He is so screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

(Because, yeah, I can't resist the puppy-dog eyes any more than Dean can. *laugh* Another 100 words.)

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

Sam is just zipping up when the waitress launches herself into the men's room behind him, red-eyed (check that: _purple_-eyed) and sobbing.

"Whoa, easy, you okay?" He takes a step toward her, ignoring the whole "woman in the men's room" weirdness, and she flinches away. Not good.

"The guy...your guy...the guy you're _with_..." it takes Sam a second to catch up to her gasping, jerky outburst.

"Uh...not _my_ _guy_, my _brother_."

She looks at him as though he's just volunteered to let Dean die, cut into a thousand pieces, and that's when he hears the commotion.

She may be right.


	3. Chapter 3

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

**So...swearing. Sammy's _pissed_ so it's to be expected, right? *sheepish look* This all started off as self-indulgent and it's pretty much followed the same route throughout. Hope that's okay.**

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

Sam wrenches the door open, the hinges protest. The waitress follows Hurricane Sammy.

He arrives, sliding around the corner, just in time to see the ugly brute drive his fist into Dean's stomach for the second time.

"_HEY!_" Low and dangerous, "Get your _fucking hands_ off my _brother!_"

It's distraction enough. Dean's elbow slams into the temple of the man on his right. His fist immediately launches forward again, shattering the nose of the guy on his left.

Dean drops like a stone, willing his paralyzed diaphragm to start working again before the dark spots coalesce into a family portrait.


	4. Chapter 4

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

**A double drabble to move things along. Huge thanks to everyone for your support!**

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

Dean's vision is tunneling down, he's desperate for a breath. Peripherally he hopes he's damaged two of the men enough to not be a threat to Sam, leaving just the one for him to handle.

Dean almost feels bad for the guy. He saw the look in Sam's eyes and he knows what kind of hell is about to rain down on this asshole's parade. He hopes he can stay conscious long enough to see it.

The floor thrums beneath him, something heavy just touched down, he's immediately afraid for Sam. He tries to sit up, finds Sam's arm supporting him, warm paw on his chest.

"Dean, you've got to calm down. We're alright now. You've gotta relax so you can breathe." Voice pitched low and calm, soothing Dean's frayed nerves, huge hand rubbing gently at his chest coaxing lungs to work.

Tension drains like bathwater, Dean wheezes in a shallow breath. Sam carefully palms Dean's abused stomach, checking for rigidity. He understands, tries not to react, but the pain is too much. Dean curls in on himself with a groan.

"Sorry bro. Hospital?"

"Home." Barely a whisper. Sam will keep watch, ER may still be on the agenda tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

**Once more, from Sam's POV.**

**v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v**

Sam stands transfixed as Dean rallies to take out the two idiots holding him up before crumpling bonelessly to the floor. Pride and rage thrill through Sam's veins - that Dean is a cast-iron badass is never in doubt, but his head still swims when presented with proof.

Behind the happy-go-lucky front lies the lethal Hunter. Quietly dangerous.

The last man standing decides inflicting more damage on the downed Winchester is more satisfying than facing the giant headed his way. Sam sees the decision flicker behind his eyes - three long strides, a handful of fabric and Sam's fist drives into his face hard enough that his elbow cracks.

He releases the limp form, moving toward Dean as he struggles to sit. His right eye is already swelling and darkened, Sam's more concerned with the glazed-from-lack-of-oxygen pallor. Carefully maneuvering Dean slightly upright to ease the strain on his no-doubt agonizing stomach muscles, Sam tries to steady his voice despite the adrenaline and emotions still pin-balling through his body.

He speaks softly to his brother. Relief making his fingers tingle when Dean visibly unclenches trembling muscles, drawing

a ragged breath finally. He worries _internal bleeding?_ but steadying Dean is first priority.


End file.
